


Katsuki's Katsudon

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on ICE, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Actor Guang-Hong, Cafe AU, Cafe owner Yuuri, Chubby Yuuri, Fluff, High school student Minami, I think that's everything, Journalist Phichit, M/M, Minami has a small crush on Yuuri, Musician Leo, Photographer JJ, Restaurant owners Michele and Sara, So many spellings..., VictUuri, Victuri, Vikturi, Yuri!!! on Ice AU, businessman viktor, eventual viktuuri, katsudon, leoji, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In Detroit on business, Viktor Nikiforov is sent by his boss to try and convince the owner of a struggling café to hand it over to the company. However, the offers don't seem to sway the owner in the slightest, who is much more stubborn than originally anticipated. It becomes a lot harder when the owner begins to promote his business through any means possible, and especially so when Viktor finds himself falling for Katsuki Yuuri a little more every time he sees him...





	1. Katsuki Yuuri

When Viktor eventually found the café, he was surprised by how welcoming it looked.

Most cafés in Detroit were bright and bold, intent on capturing your attention and bullying you inside with promises of the best coffee or the best pastry that the city had to offer. The interior of said cafés usually matched the exterior too- with strong and neat furnishings that caught your eye no matter how hard you tried not to look, the menu filled with an assortment of drinks and snacks that it was difficult to simply choose one.

However, he noticed straight away that this particular café was different. Rather than a luminous or elegant exterior, it had a simple glass front with three tables accompanied by steel chairs, each with a small vase with a single flower in, seated under a deep blue canopy of which extended up to the sign. In peeling letters, the name of the place stood out in brown; _Katsuki’s Katsudon_.

When he had first been told about it by his company’s boss, Viktor had been deeply perplexed. It was a strange name to call a café- he wasn’t even sure what ‘katsudon’ was. A quick web search had told him that it was a Japanese pork cutlet bowl, so he could only assume that the person who owned the establishment- Katsuki- was Japanese. He would be lying if he said the place as well as the food hadn’t intrigued him, but nonetheless, he wasn’t here to try new food. He was here on business. _Katsuki’s Katsudon_ was struggling to stay open, according to the file on it he had been given. Regardless of being tucked comfortably around a corner of a busy street opposite an equally busy road, customers were infrequent. Viktor couldn’t place exactly why, even by standing outside it. The establishment was quaint and quite charming, even if the sign was flaking and looked more than a little battered. Perhaps it was the lack of boldness and advertisements that other cafés had, or maybe the vast majority of Detroiters were suspicious of unidentifiable cuisines. Viktor still had to fully work out the persona of a Michigander- they were a lot different to the people in Russia where he was born and raised for a good portion of his life.

He slid his phone into the pocket of his deep blue suit, straightening out the jacket until he was satisfied that his clothing looked presentable. After tightening his grip on his briefcase and checking the time, he pushed open the door to the café and entered. A tinkling of a bell above the door announced his arrival, which caught the attention of a boy behind the counter. The boy looked relatively surprised and immediately set down the guitar that he had been strumming and stood, smiling at Viktor.

“Hello, sir,” he said, leaning on the counter with both of his hands. “What can I get for you today?”

The politeness of his tone was comforting and kind, which Viktor found he liked. It matched the café and only seemed to increase its charm. The Russian turned to him and returned the smile with a slight twitch of his lips, maintaining the professional atmosphere about him and making it clear he was not there to socialise or order food. “Hello. Are you Mr Katsuki?”

He noted the fear that flashed across the boy’s face. “Um… No, I’m not. I can go and get him for you, if you want?”

Viktor nodded once, laying his briefcase down on one of the few tables that were placed strategically inside the room and took in the interior of the café whilst the boy left through a curtained doorway to find the owner. Inside was relatively bare aside from the tables and chairs, the floor wooden which creaked with every movement that was made. A sign hung on the wall with menu options on it- ranging from coffees to pastries and the infamous katsudon (with words underneath it explaining what it was). The prices were reasonable- perhaps a little too so- and underneath the sign a painted katsudon bowl sat. The counter itself was polished and next to it was a glass cabinet filled with quite delicious looking pastries, cakes and sandwiches- some of which he recognised from menus of other cafés and a few which looked like equally as delightful Japanese variations. Again, Viktor was filled with the same curiosity of what they would taste like, however he pushed that feeling aside when Katsuki stepped through the curtains.

Viktor took a double take.

The man was, if Viktor was honest, quite attractive. He had a mop of messy black hair and kind brown eyes, his physique a little on the chubby side, hidden by an apron and a sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His whole demeanour was soft and welcoming, which he supposed was what the café reflected. Flour was powdered over his hands, forearms, apron and even the tip of his nose- which Viktor assumed meant that he made all the delicate looking pastries and cakes that had caught his attention. The man looked surprised, no doubt wondering why a Russian businessman was standing in the middle of his café, practically screaming formality and expensive clothing. Even Viktor could tell he was out of place here.

“Mr Katsuki,” Viktor began, standing up straighter. “My name is Viktor Nikiforov and I’ve come to discuss the terms of the letter.”

The Japanese man looked blank for a few seconds, before a hardness took over his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve already written back that I’m not interested in any offers.”

Ah. Yakov had chosen to omit that quite important information. Viktor could see that this was going to be a lot harder than he had anticipated. He hummed, meeting the others gaze coolly. “Perhaps if you look over what offers I’ve brought, you can settle on a decision?”

“I’ve already settled on one,” the other responded, his hands dropping to his sides. “I’m not giving up my café.”

Viktor was a little taken aback by the stubbornness, but he wasn’t yet deterred. He gestured to the briefcase, using one of the many wording techniques that years of being a businessman had allowed him to develop. “It’s only a few papers to look over and wouldn’t take up much time.”

He watched as the Japanese man met his gaze for a few seconds longer before he sighed and nodded. “Ok, I’ll look, but my decision won’t be changing.”

Viktor supressed a feeling of triumph as Katsuki disappeared briefly to presumably wipe his hands and take off his apron, before re-emerging- this time wearing a pair of half-rimmed blue glasses. The teenager from earlier followed him back through but stayed behind the counter as his employer crossed the floor to where Viktor was standing, taking a seat at the table he had laid his briefcase on. Viktor took a seat opposite him before opening his briefcase and removing a few sheets of paper from the top, handing them over to Katsuki who began reading carefully through them immediately.

Viktor took this time to look at the Japanese man a little better. The glasses enlarged his eyes so that you could see the various flecks of brown in them, narrowed slightly in concentration as he read through the terms, conditions and offers that Viktor’s boss was willing to make. His lips were curved down slightly too, along with his eyebrows. Up close, Viktor could confirm that this man was as attractive as he had seemed from afar and, notably, his type. But Yakov would certainly blow a fuse if he knew that one of his most trusted subordinates had flirted with the owner of a potentially new store and so kept his thoughts to himself. Business was business after all.

His boss- Yakov Feltsman- had seemed completely intent on taking over this particular café due to the fact that it would attract a lot more attention from the public eye and profits would therefore increase. _Feltsman and co._ was a very well renowned multi-million food company that had spread across the globe in the forty years since it had been opened with its headquarters in St Petersburg. Yakov and his underlings- Viktor included- had moved temporarily to the USA to make some deals and spread the company and increase the profits that Yakov was already raking in, which is why Viktor was here in the first place. Yakov had happened to pass through the street that this small café was on and had decided he liked the location and, after some digging, found out that one of the places along here was struggling to stay open compared to the rest of the stores and establishments that seemed to flourish. Yakov had seen this as the perfect opportunity and was willing to part with quite a reasonable amount of money to take over _Katsuki’s Katsudon_.

However, Katsuki himself didn’t seem to like that plan at all.

The man finished flipping through the pages and set them down, a frown heavy on his features. He was silent for a minute or so, before he shook his head, standing up. “Tell your boss that I’m sorry, but I can’t accept his offers.”

Viktor blinked, again surprised. The money that Yakov was offering was not a small amount at all- especially for an establishment like this. Usually, other owners of places that Yakov had developed an interest in and had made offers for had been brought around to reason easily once they saw the sum of money being offered. But not Katsuki, apparently. His stubbornness was admirable.

Viktor forced his face to remain neutral as he nodded and stood also, collecting the papers and putting them back in the briefcase. “I see. My boss will come back with more offers, I’m sure.”

“Then he’ll be wasting his time. I’m not interested.”

The irritation beginning to seep into Katsuki’s voice was evident and Viktor decided that now was a good time to leave. He knew for a fact that Yakov wouldn’t leave this alone easily and to increase the chances of gaining this place he’d have to focus on firstly not angering the owner with his persistence. He simply nodded, holding out his hand which Katsuki reluctantly took, before taking his leave.

As soon as he left the café, he took out his phone again and dialled a number, sitting down on a bench nearby and holding it to his ear, placing his briefcase on his lap. He waited whilst it rung, watching the various people and cars rush by, completely caught up in their own lives to pay attention to the Russian. Inexplicably, it soothed his nerves as he knew for a fact that he was going to soon be on the receiving end of a huge rant. He was used to them, but this time was different. Katsuki was probably going to be the most stubborn owner they'd ever come across.

Yakov was definitely not going to be happy about that at all.

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as the Russian had left, Katsuki Yuuri collapsed back into the chair, planting his elbows on the table and resting his head between his hands. An anxious feeling welled up inside of him at the realisation that he most likely hadn’t seen the end of that proposal and that that company would no doubt refuse to stop until they had their claws on his café. He’d heard of it before; either by _Feltsman and co._ or other large companies, who if they wanted something they wouldn’t stop until they had it.

He heard his co-worker move behind the counter, no doubt concerned by the whole exchange. Yuuri hadn’t told Leo about the letter he’d received a few days ago as he didn’t want to worry him, but he hadn’t expected for one of the representatives to actually show up. He thought that he could hide it, but apparently not.

“Yuuri…?” Leo asked uncertainly. “Who was that?”

Yuuri let out a long sigh before sitting up, looking around the café he had poured his heart and soul into before his eyes finally fell on the other, who’s eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes slightly widened and searching Yuuri’s face for answers. “A representative of _Feltsman and co.,"_   Yuuri said finally. “They want to take over the café.”

Leo’s eyes widened even more and he wet his lips nervously, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not… going to let them, are you?”

A smile came to Yuuri’s lips at that and he shook his head. “No, I’m not. I’ve refused all those other proposals, so I’m sure we can get through this one.”

Yuuri felt, however, an unspoken argument hang in the air. The other proposals he had received were never from a company as big as _Feltsman and co.,_ which begged the question; why did something that big want his café in the first place? Was it because of the location? Or the fact that they had somehow found out how much they were struggling? No matter what Yuuri did, he just couldn’t seem to attract enough customers to make a proper profit… After paying the rent for both his apartment and the shop, paying Leo his wage and getting ingredients for the food, there was next to no money for Yuuri himself. He was incredibly grateful that his flatmate- Phichit- was as understanding as he was and helped Yuuri out where he could.

The two remained quiet for a little while longer, before Yuuri stood and made his way behind the counter. As he passed Leo, he smiled kindly at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out,” he told him, before disappearing behind the curtain to continue making the pastries he was working on as a new attempt to attract customers.

Leo watched him with a troubled expression before sighing himself. He trusted Yuuri- he’d given him a job whilst he worked on his career in music after all- but was this finally the end of the café? To calm his growing nerves, he took his seat on the stool once again and picked up his guitar, running his fingers over the strings a few times before his fingers shaped the chords and he began strumming again.

_“The morning sun, or the moonless night, I see the god inside them and I feel alright…”_


	2. Stubbornness

Not even a week later, Viktor found himself outside _Katsuki’s Katsudon_ once again.

He stared up at the peeling sign with half lidded eyes from his place across the street, head resting languidly against the brick wall behind him. That café… It intrigued him. Or more accurately, he was intrigued by the person who owned said café- Katsuki. Even though his exterior was rather cold towards Viktor, which was understandable of course due to the circumstances, there was a certain aspect of him that the Russian was inexplicably drawn to. He had already sensed that the Japanese man was his type, not to mention the fact that he was quite attractive and had a kind disposition, but he was sure there was something else there that fascinated him…

Hm. Katsuki was a very interesting character, indeed.

“ _This_ is the café? What a dump.”

The sudden voice from Viktor’s right hand side made him immediately stand up straight and turn, his posture relaxing marginally when he saw who it was.

“Ah, Yuri! I see you got my message.”

A smile came to Viktor’s lips when he saw that his assistant was wearing the suit that he had picked out for him earlier- an expensively tailored one in a deep blue that the younger Russian had been given when he first became an assistant- and had attempted to make himself look more business-like by tying his hair in a long blond ponytail. It still didn’t conceal the fact that Yuri Plisetsky was very young, technically too young to be in such a position inside a big corporation- but even as sixteen year olds went he was hardworking and persistent, something Viktor looked for vehemently in an assistant. Yuri was a very lucky boy indeed, more than he would probably ever know.

Yuri glanced at him, giving him a distasteful look, his green eyes narrowed in mild irritation. “Yeah. Next time, wake me up before you leave,” he hissed. “Sending me a message twenty minutes before we’re supposed to meet is a shitty thing to do!”

Of course, like everyone, his assistant had his drawbacks. Yuri’s… colourful vocabulary was his.

Viktor just chuckled, looking back at the café and moving his briefcase to the other hand to readjust the stiff cuffs on his wrists. He’d made an extra effort with his appearance today in the vague hopes of catching some attention, particularly from a certain Japanese man. Was it unnecessary? Probably, but Viktor had always cared deeply about his looks and how he appeared to other people- especially those he took interest in.

“Are you ready?” He asked Yuri, gesturing with a graceful nod of his head to the café.

Yuri gave it a once over, eyes lingering on the peeling sign with clear dislike. “Yeah. What’s your plan?”

Viktor pulled away from the brick wall, looking left, then right, before crossing the road- Yuri at his side like an obedient puppy. “To do as Yakov said; coax Katsuki into handing it over through any means possible. He refused the money offers last time, so this time Yakov had plans drawn up to show him what they would do.”

“Will it work?” Yuri asked as they reached the opposite side of the rode, quirking an eyebrow.

Viktor stepped over to the café door, placing a hand on the wood before giving Yuri a sideways smile. “Probably not, but Yakov always insists that his clients know what will happen to their establishments.” With that, he pushed it open.

The tinkling of the bell again signified their arrival, making- who Viktor recognised as the same boy from the other day- look up. He visibly hesitated upon seeing who it was, before he put his guitar down gently and stood, disappearing quietly through the curtained doorway at the back of the room.

Viktor glanced down at Yuri, who’s eyes were flitting around the place- a deep frown creasing his eyebrows. “What do you think?”

Yuri’s mouth opened as he prepared to give his- no doubt highly critical- opinion on the café, when Katsuki appeared through the curtains. He was just as Viktor remembered, a little on the chubby side, messy hair, a pair of glasses perched precariously on his nose… and a face that clearly showed his irritation towards both males.

“I said I wasn’t interested,” Katsuki said with a huff, his expression softening slightly when he saw Yuri, no doubt wondering why someone that young was here with Viktor.

“Hello again, Mr Katsuki,” Viktor greeted formally, maintaining his business-like atmosphere. “This is my assistant, Yuri Plisetsky. We’ve come today with more offers.”

Katsuki went to say something else, when Yuri interrupted. “It’s a plan. Take a look at it and then decide.”

The younger Russian was exceptionally good at kerbing his language when around clients and the owners of potential shop buildings, a trait that he’d picked up on from both Viktor and Yakov. Nevertheless, the impatience within his tone itself was still quite prominent and even mildly aggressive, which is why Katsuki looked at him with such surprise. Sometimes Yuri’s unique use of language could come in handy, especially in intimidating the clients if need be.

Katsuki looked visibly torn for a few seconds, then he nodded reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll look.”

Both Russians wasted no time in crowding around one of the tables and taking a seat, Katsuki joining them a few seconds later and sitting opposite the duo. Viktor unlatched the briefcase and took out a few papers, handing them to Yuri before closing the case and moving it from the table to the floor. Yuri placed the papers on the table and spread them out, before sitting back and letting Viktor describe the plan that he’d been forced to memorise by Yakov.

“Firstly,” Viktor said, moving one piece of paper forward that contained a very scratchy outline of the café’s interior. “The designer would like to change the layout, as you can see here. It would be divided into three- the back wall being brought back to make this space more open. That would be the storeroom. The open space would then be divided, a counter being placed at the far corner and then the remaining space used for stock.”

He handed the sheet of paper to Yuri, then pushed the second forward. “This is the exterior of the building. The canopy will be removed and instead an electric fitting put in behind the sign. The front will have a sliding door and the glass front kept to attract customers.”

The Russian went through the other pieces of paper, showing the light fittings, the way the stock would be positioned and then finally the storeroom. He noticed that Katsuki stayed quiet throughout the extent of the debrief and didn’t question any of it- not even how the plans had been drawn up without actual measurements. That was, in fact, Yakov’s doing; he’d found out the layout plans for the building itself and had let his designer draw out how they would alter the place. How he’d actually managed to get the original plans, Viktor had no idea, but the forwardness and sureness that they’d get the building he was certain was some sort of intimidation tactic.

At the end of the small speech, Viktor sat back and looked calmly at Katsuki, who had an unreadable expression on his face. A few minutes of silence went by, until the Japanese man spoke. “I see you’ve already got everything worked out…”

Viktor nodded in affirmation. “All we need is your consent to give this building to us.” He pushed forward the final sheet that had been strategically hidden under the others. “I have the form here with my boss’s current money offer, if you’ll agree to it?”

The owner was quiet for a few more seconds, staring hard at the six-figure offer. It had gone up another ten thousand or so dollars- Yakov’s latest attempt at bribing the owner. Ten thousand dollars on top of a six figure sum was already ridiculously high- more than Viktor would ever be willing to pay for this sort of place. Nonetheless, Yakov had money- therefore if he wanted something (in this instance, the café), it was unlikely he was going to let it pass.

However, much to Yuri’s surprise but not so much Viktor’s, Katsuki shook his head and sat back in the wooden chair. “I’m sorry,” he told them both politely. “But I can’t accept.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor saw Yuri’s mouth open to snap at the Japanese man, and quickly nudged him with his knee. The blond fell silent, but the agitation was extremely apparent in his posture and the heavy frown on his face.

Viktor just nodded and stood, filing the papers before putting them back in the briefcase. “Thank you for your time,” he told Katsuki, offering his hand that the other took again, before gesturing to Yuri to take their leave.

The second they crossed the street away from _Katsuki’s Katsudon,_ Yuri snapped _._

“What the hell?” He barked. “Is he blind? Yakov’s going way over what he should be offering for that dump and he’s _refusing_?”

“Patience,” Viktor said moderately. “Is a virtue. It’s obvious that Yakov will pursue this and I’m sure that he’ll win Katsuki over eventually.”

Yuri grumbled something, eyebrows low over his eyes. Like Viktor, Yuri wasn’t used to this kind of resistance over a simple and admittedly shabby building. Usually by this time and money, the owner had been won over and had money in their pocket whilst _Feltsman and co._ had their claws on the building.

Admittedly, this little café was putting up a commendable fight.

“What do you think Yakov’s going to do next?” Yuri asked, glancing at his supervisor. If anyone knew Yakov’s movements, it was Viktor. The latter had been working under the former for countless years and had developed an aptitude for predicting his boss’s next moves; nearly all the predictions resulting in what Viktor had guessed previously.

Viktor hummed in thought, tapping his index finger gently against his lips. “Knowing Yakov… he’ll try an intimidation factor. If he’s that set on getting the café, then something ‘unfortunate’ will happen and Yakov will give his final offer. It will be very difficult for Katsuki to refuse it then.”

Yuri perked up, looking vaguely interested. “What sort of intimidation factor?”

“I’m not sure, but whatever it is it won’t be good- for Katsuki or _Katsuki’s Katsudon_.”

Things were about to get _very_ interesting.

 

* * *

 

 

Ji Guang-Hong watched nervously as the two men left _Katsuki’s Katsudon_.

Both were foreign and very rich, he could tell that much just from a single glance. The suits they wore were too fitting, their hair too perfect, their demeanour much too formal and business-like for everyday Detroiter’s.

He’d been on his way to the café, holding three paper cups filled with different drinks, when he’d seen them enter the establishment. Feeling too nervous to go inside, he waited around the corner for the full twenty minutes that the two businessmen were in there, no doubt having a serious conversation with Katsuki Yuuri. Well, if you could call them both businessmen. The younger one didn’t even look old enough to have finished school yet. Why was he there then, if that were the case?

When they did eventually leave, Guang-Hong watched them saunter down the street before he rounded the corner and tentatively pushed open the door. He noticed how both Leo and Yuuri looked up fearfully when the tinkling of the bell rang through the shop, however Leo’s expression brightened drastically upon seeing the other.

“Guang-Hong!” The American smiled, coming around the side of the counter to give the smaller male a tight hug.

The Chinese man hugged him back with just as much vigour, albeit a little awkwardly considering the drinks in his hands. He broke away from Leo before placing them down on the table in front of Yuuri, taking his own cup out.

“I thought you two could use these,” he told them, a little sheepishly, as he fiddled with the end of the scarf that he wore around his neck.

Leo took up his cup and let out a long sigh as soon as the liquid touched his lips. “Ah… Thanks. I needed that.”

Guang-Hong smiled at him, red dusting his cheeks, before he turned to Yuuri. The owner was unusually quiet, especially considering that he always greeted Guang-Hong as one of his most regular customers. He did, however, look very preoccupied; a frown low on his face and worry etched both on his features and in his eyes.

“Yuuri?” The youngest male asked. “Are you ok?”

The Japanese man seemed to snap out of his worry-induced trance, looking up at the other with an expression of both confusion and surprise. “Um… yes,” he said as evenly as he could, before picking up his drink and taking a sip- the green tea leaving a slightly bitter taste on his tongue. “Thank you.”

Silence briefly enveloped the room as the three of them sipped from their cups, well aware of the looming tension. It only made Guang-Hong more curious as to what caused it; who were those men? After a few minutes, he worked up the nerve to ask.

Luckily, he missed the look that passed between Leo and Yuuri. The two had promised to keep the visits from _Feltsman and co._ a complete secret, firstly as to not worry the few customers that actually came into the café and secondly as to not attract too much attention. On this particular street, luxurious restaurants and bold cafés littered the sidewalk, all trying to outdo each other in some way or another. If one found out that another was closing… It wouldn’t be pleasant. It didn’t help that most of the other business owners looked down at the café for being the odd one out on the street, and the already slightly tarnished name of _Katsuki’s Katsudon_ would worsen if that were the case. Not to mention the fact that closing would only further humiliate Yuuri…

“Advertisers,” Leo lied swiftly, taking another sip of his coffee. “They wanted to use the café as their own personal branding post.”

“Really?” Guang-Hong replied with a frown, believing the lie. “Did you say no?”

Yuuri nodded, carrying on from Leo. “I told them that I couldn’t accept,” he elaborated. “That this café isn’t an advertising spot.”

Guang-Hong nodded in full agreement, taking a seat on one of the chairs and sipping his tea delicately. The tension rapidly grew heavy again- like an unspoken debate was hanging in the air.

The Chinese man swapped topics as to not make the situation awkward, quickly asking; “did you give a thought to any of the food I suggested?”

It was then that Yuuri brightened too, getting to his feet enthusiastically. “I did! I made some Cong You Bing this morning, if you’d like to try?”

Guang-Hong nodded back with just as much enthusiasm, placing his cup down as Yuuri hurriedly left the room, disappearing through the door at the back. He returned less than a minute later, carrying one of the pancakes on a plate with a knife and fork and placing it in front of Guang-Hong. The latter’s face lit up at the sight of the all too familiar food (it was one of his favourites, after all) and tore off a piece, popping it in his mouth.

“What do you think?” Yuuri asked eagerly, hands loosely clenched at his sides in anticipation.

Guang-Hong chewed slowly, deciding on the taste, before he swallowed. A smile came to his lips and he looked up at Yuuri. “I think it could do with a little more pepper, but apart from that it tastes amazing!”

Yuuri’s lips curved into a delighted- one could even say proud- smile. Guang-Hong had been among his first ever customers and, after taking an interest in Leo, had come back on a regular basis whenever he could between his acting classes. His opinion was one of the ones Yuuri cherished the most and whenever he brought out a new food made Guang-Hong try it first for feedback.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said warmly and he meant it wholeheartedly. He needed something positive after the negativity the Russians had brought with them the second they had walked in the door like they owned the place already.

Guang-Hong took his time finishing the pancake, all the while with a small smile on his face, then slowly placed his cutlery down and turned back to Yuuri and Leo. “Um… Yuuri,” he began. “I know this might be a little too much to ask, but since I finished my classes early I was wondering if… Perhaps… Leo could…?” He trailed off as to seem unobtrusive, hoping Yuuri would get the gist of what he was conveying. Leo looked up at Yuuri too, a hopeful expression on his face.

Yuuri looked from one to the other and pretended to think, before he smiled. “Go on. No one else is coming in today.”

A grin came to Leo’s lips and he immediately rushed around the side of the counter, grabbing his coat and placing his guitar softly against the back wall, before coming back. Guang-Hong stood, thanking Yuuri, and then followed as the taller male turned towards the door. “See you tomorrow, Yuuri!”

As they both reached the door, there was a sudden and unexpected clatter as someone else attempted to come inside the café at the same time. “Whoops! Sorry!”

Yuuri could recognise that voice anywhere and his smile widened as he turned towards the entrance. The other person moved out of the way so that the two teenagers could pass, before coming inside the café, a bright and cheerful smile on his face. “Hi, Yuuri! I thought I’d drop by as I haven’t been here in a while.”

“Hey, Phichit,” Yuuri greeted his flatmate as he collected the plate that Guang-Hong had left behind. “How was work today?”

“Tiring,” Phichit said with a sigh, taking a seat at one of the tables as Yuuri disappeared behind the counter to put the plate in the sink at the back. “Ciao Ciao wants me to work some day’s overtime to follow up on this big story he’s been chasing for a while. It’ll be good pay, but it’s just so exhausting!”

“I see,” Yuuri said, returning to the room and leaning heavily on the counter top.

The two gazed at each other for a few seconds, before Phichit let out another sigh and rested his chin on the palm of his hand.

“He wants you back, you know,” he said quietly. “You were one of the best before you left and nothings quite been the same.”

“I know,” Yuuri replied flatly. “But… I can’t go back. If I do, it’ll be proving him right. He never believed in this café but I was sure it would work out…”

A heavy silence fell on the room, which made both men a little uncomfortable. Phichit could sense that Yuuri was unhappy, but he had known him for long enough now to know that Yuuri would come to talk to him when he was ready. So, after a minute or thereabouts, Phichit let out a groan and stood. “Oh, I don’t like it when you’re sad! Lock up and we can go out!”

“There’s still an hour left before closing time,” Yuuri stated, tapping the watch on his wrist with his forefinger, but Phichit obviously wasn’t listening.

“An hour isn’t that bad!” He said, gesturing to Yuuri. “You work hard enough as it is! How about I buy you a drink?”

“You know as well as I do that alcohol and I don’t go together,” the Japanese man grimaced, getting his coat and the keys to the shop anyway. It wasn’t as if any more customers were coming in. “Remember what happened at your twentieth birthday party?”

Phichit chortled, a smile coming to his lips at the memory. “I still have the photos!”

“I told you to delete them!” Yuri said exasperatedly, switching off the lights and then following the other out of the café, locking the door and inserting the key in the gate lock. “It was embarrassing enough as it was!”

Phichit just laughed and clapped a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder when the gate had locked, steering him away from his beloved café and down the street. “Alright, I’ll delete them,” he promised. “But only if you come with me to the bar.”

Yuuri shook his head slowly. “Ok- one drinks my limit, though.”

“One dozen you mean,” Phichit teased, fishing his phone out of his pocket and checking the social media notifications with a swipe of his thumb.

“One,” Yuuri told him firmly. “I definitely don’t want a repeat of that night.”

But, just as Phichit predicted, Yuuri didn’t stick to the one drink limit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the first chapter is up!  
> Updates will be every Wednesday unless stated otherwise!  
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you need me, my tumblrs are charliefailsatlife (main) and yoiwhereitshouldntbe (Yuri!!! On Ice)  
> Until next week!

**Author's Note:**

> The storyline is copyrighted to myself (charliefailsatlife) but the original characters and the concept of Yuri!!! On Ice belongs to the rightful owners.


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